


my heart keeps beating like a hammer.

by Ultimate_Naegi



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sacrifice Chloe Ending, Slow Burn, the kids aren't alright
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-09-30 19:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10169693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultimate_Naegi/pseuds/Ultimate_Naegi
Summary: Max returns to Blackwell after taking a leave of absence. Victoria just wants to figure out how to make this guilt go away.





	1. help i'm alive.

**Author's Note:**

> so! i started writing this a few months back to cope with the sacrifice chloe ending. i'd like to continue this and make it a multi chapter thing, so any feedback would be much appreciated!!  
> thanks go out to rachel for betaing this!

The cold January air seeps through the cracked driver's side window. The driver has a cigarette in one hand, the other steadying the steering wheel. She pulls it to her lips and cherishes the burn of smoke in her lungs. It keeps her warm and alert, which she needs to be for the first day of the spring semester.

Spring felt even further away than Seattle, though. Arcadia Bay was a temperate tiny town, the shops and diners dark and asleep in the early dawn light. Besides her Mercedes, there aren't any cars on the road. 

With a shaky exhale, Victoria sends a silent prayer to whoever-the-fuck that this semester will be better than the last.  


Turning at the sign stating "BLACKWELL ACADEMY", she starts up the hill that winds through the forest to the school.  
A searing sensation on her leggings has Victoria hissing through her teeth. Great, she forgot to tap the ash of her cig, which elegantly burned a hole just beneath the line of her skirt 

With an angry grumble, Victoria flicks it out the window. Littering is nothing, it's not like this town deserves to be treated with respect. After an eternity and a half, she finally pulls into the student parking lot.  


Grabbing her purse, she tugs on the door handle and kicks it with her black platform. There's no one else in the lot, so she lights up another cigarette for the walk to the dorms.  


The frost glitters on the campus lawn, and the fountain is slushy but not quite frozen. All the trees are bare, the branches reaching for the sky like clawed hands. All of it is too picturesque, her hand aches for her camera. 

But if Blackwell has taught her anything, it's that beauty is an illusion meant to distract from darkness. 

By the time she reaches the dorm, her cigarette is a butt and her hands are shaking.  


There is a "WELCOME BACK, STUDENTS" banner hanging above the double doors, which she scoffs at as she enters the building. 

It's odd to be here so early, when it's so empty. In just an hour or so, everyone will arrive and the dorm will be chaos. At least until class starts. But now it's almost eerily silent as Victoria treks up the stairs to the girls dormitory, the click-clack of her wedges echoing through the stairwell. 

The hallway looks the same, except they cycled the posters. Instead all of the holiday/finals themed decorations, the bulletin board advertise new clubs and activities. Of course, smack dab in the middle, is the number for the depression hotline. It's been there ever since October, the only constant. Victoria is about to tear it down when she notices the soft music. It's from behind a cracked door at the end of the hall, but the melancholic acoustics are still audible. 

She takes a sharp inhale of breath, and walks toward the music.  


As she guessed, the only door partially open is room 219. Max Caulfield's room, which had been unoccupied since the girl went back to Seattle mid-semester.  


Leaning to catch a look inside, Victoria sees that the room is no longer unoccupied.  


Max Caulfield stands on her bed with a box under her arm. She's removing something from the wall and putting it in said box. It takes a moment for Victoria to realize that Max is taking down her photo wall. 

Because yes, Victoria had broken into (it's not breaking if it's open) the brunette's room before and seen the wall of Polaroids. 

Before she can analyze any further, Max looks over her shoulder. It's almost creepy, like she knew she was being watched. She makes eye contact with Victoria from where she is peeping. Victoria nearly absconds before Max speaks.  


"Oh, hey," Her voice is flat, cautious. "Sorry about the music. I didn't think anyone else would be here this early." 

She sets the box down and hops off her bed. Max opens the door fully to where the two girls can look each other in the eye. 

"You came back," is all Victoria can muster. 

Max looks even smaller and fragile than before, which hadn't seemed possible. She's lost the last bits of baby fat that clung to her face in the fall, finally looking like an 18 year old. There are bags under her eyes that almost look like bruises, and Victoria wonders if the reason Max is up so early is because the girl never slept. 

"Yeah, um. Blackwell still offered me my scholarship, so," Max mumbles, her shoulders lifting in a lazy shrug. There's a beat of silence, and Victoria recognizes the song now. Santa Monica Dream.  


"Well, I, um. I'm glad you're back." Victoria fumbles with the words, because they're out of character for the Queen Bee facade she's built for over 10 years. But they're true, which is almost more startling.  


Max blinks her big blue eyes in what must be confusion, so Victoria opens her mouth to take it back. Before she can though, Max smiles. It doesn't reach her eyes, but Victoria can tell she's trying. It's so sad that it stops her from saying anything. 

"Thanks," Max almost whispers the word. "It's going to be strange and different, but I can't hide from what happened anymore."  


Honestly, Victoria didn't expect to ever see Max again. After the funeral, her parents came to Blackwell to bring the girl home. Back then, Victoria was too ashamed to even say goodbye. But she came to regret it as she noticed the hole where Max used to be.  


"Well, let me know if you need anything." Victoria offered. She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. "I'm just across the way." 

Max nodded, and she seemed to get that Victoria was trying to escape this conversation. At least she didn't look hurt. 

"Thanks, Victoria." Max says and then turns away. She's looking back at her photo wall, halfway packed up. "I'll see you in class." And with that, Max walks back into her room and shuts the door behind her.  


Victoria just stands there for a moment, staring through the door. She hated this feeling tying her stomach into knots. She hasn't been able to make it go away since October. 

If only she could just write Max a card. She was better at writing her feelings down than verbalizing them. But the issue extended too far beyond anything she could pick up at the store.

Victoria turned around and went into her own room. She shut and locked the door behind her. She flopped onto her couch, the leather creaking beneath her. She pulled her phone out of her purse, along with her headphones. Shoving them into her ears, she turned the volume all the way up to drown out her mind. 

If Max was back for good, Victoria had to make sure she felt welcome. At least to alleviate her own conscience. 

Victoria pulled up her email on her phone and began to type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Both the title of this chapter and the fic are from Metric's 'Help I'm Alive'. A great song and band)


	2. but at least the war is over.

"So, let me get this straight," Courtney began cautiously. "Is Max part of the Vortex now? I don't get it."  


The three girls are in Victoria's room. Classes are over for the day, and they hadn't had a chance to discuss Victoria's email from this morning. 

Courtney is brushing Taylor's hair on the couch while Victoria paints her nails on her bed. 

"The 'Vortex' was disbanded after Nathan was arrested." Victoria chided. 

"You know what I mean," Courtney interrupted. "Our inner circle. I just want to know why you want us to be BFFs with her. Don't you like, hate her?" 

"Okay, I never said we were going to be friends with her." Victoria retorted, looking up from her nails to fix Courtney with a steely glare. It had the desired effect; she hunched her shoulders and shrank back accordingly. 

"I just said don't mess with her. Treat her like you would a stray dog, you know." 

"She looks so different," Taylor chimes in. "I can tell she's having trouble sleeping. She is bad at blending her concealer." 

"I mean, maybe, she's different because she's like, traumatized?" Courtney inquires, putting the hair brush down. “Okay, look at your hair, I think I got the knot out.” She says on as a endnote to Taylor. Taylor stands up and walks to the full length mirror to inspect the damage. 

Victoria sucked on her teeth angrily. 

"Courtney, what I say goes. If anything, Max deserves a little courtesy. I mean, we’re all responsible for what happened.” 

Courtney wilted and Taylor attempted to defend them. 

"Victoria-" 

"No!" Victoria shut her down and raised her voice. "We all knew Nathan was fucked up, okay. We could stopped him. Or like, gotten him help before it got so bad." 

The room fell silent. Victoria sighed and screwed the cap of the nail polish back onto the bottle. She sets the bottle on her desk before continuing. 

"One of ‘the inner circle" Victoria added air quotes to be extra, "murdered someone Max was like, real close with. I just think it's common fucking decency that we try and make it up to her." 

Courtney and Taylor just looked at her for a while. She tightened her jaw and didn't flinch under their stares.  
______________________________ 

Taylor and Courtney didn't know much about the case against Mark Jefferson and Nathan Prescott. They never went to the courthouse, and were only questioned once by the police about the Vortex Club parties. 

Victoria never told anyone what the police had told her. That she was going to be next. 

No one that was uninvolved in the case knew. The Prescotts dropped a pretty penny to keep the catastrophe quiet. 

Knowing it had made Victoria feel sick to her stomach, thinking that what happened to Kate and Rachel almost happened to her. 

It easily could have been Victoria on that viral video, in a red binder. 

It could have been her in a junkyard.  


So Victoria wrote Kate an apology letter. It wasn't as long as it probably should have been, but it got the point across. 

Victoria was too terrible to hand the envelope to Kate in person, so she just slipped it under her door one morning last fall. No one saw her do it, the weight of guilt stopped smothering her momentarily. 

That night, Victoria answered a knock at her door and found Kate. 

"Thank you for your letter." Kate had said in a small voice, "It meant a lot to me. I could tell you were being sincere." 

She looked like a scared rabbit at the edge of the woods. A lot of people looked at Victoria that way, like they were waiting for her to snap and bite them like a wolf. 

Kate wiped her puffy eyes with the heel of her palm. She sniffled and cleared her throat softly. 

"I meant it." Victoria replied, and her voice was weak. She couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. She was afraid she might cry too. "Just like, don't tell anyone maybe?" 

She wishes she could take the statement back after it's out of her mouth. Victoria grinds her teeth. 

Kate let out a little snort through her nostrils and smiled sadly like she was expecting that request. 

"As if they'd believe me?" Kate quipped dryly. "It's okay. I won't tell anybody."  
______________________________ 

"Like my email said," Victoria instructed, straining to keep her voice level. "We were already planning a party for being back from break. I'm going to invite Max. Are either of you going to try to stop me?" 

As expected, both of the other girls shook their heads. 

"Good. Now, I have a fucking headache and some homework I need Courtney to do. Can you both leave?” Victoria commands the questions like she knows the answers. And she does, because they both leave, Courtney grabs Victoria’s backpack and slings it over her back. 

Once the door clicks shut, Victoria lets out an extended sigh. 

Now all she had to do was actually follow through with her plan. Victoria already kind of regretted it, because it was out of character. 

But she never gave up on something once she sets out to do it. Now wasn't the time to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! sorry that this chapter is short, and that it took me like a month to continue this? i've already started the next one and will post it soon.  
> chapter title is from 'in our bedroom, after the war' by stars  
> i choose songs by what i listen to when i write/edit? so credit goes where credits due


	3. friend, make sense of me

Victoria gave herself the day to plan her course of attack.  


She woke up early the next morning to prepare herself for the day. It wasn't even light out when she got up for her shower. 

Thus began her morning routine. Shower, moisturize, blow dry. Then return to her room to prepare her appearance for the day. 

Victoria had learned at a very young age that appearances are everything. 

So Victoria creates a face, a mask to wear, an image to project. It's been this way for years. 

By the time the rest of the dorm was just beginning to stir, Victoria is fully dressed with accessories and perfume to boot. It gave her a sense of power and control. 

She leaves her dorm room feeling confident. This would work. She could do this. 

She knocks on Max’s door when the rest of the dorm is either showering, snoozing, or prepping for their first class. There’s no traffic in the hall. 

Victoria doesn't hear any noise behind the door. She waits one, two, three seconds then knocks again. 

Faintly, Victoria hears the rustling of sheets from inside the room. 

_Wake up call, Maxine._

The knob turns and the door opens to reveal the half asleep girl. 

Max wore an oversized t shirt with “I WANT TO BELIEVE” printed on it along with a ufo graphic. It almost completely covered her gray boy shorts. 

It seems that in the time of Max’s absence from Blackwell, she _somehow_ managed to get skinnier. Her legs looks unhealthy and boney. 

She had eye boogers that she was unsuccessfully trying to wipe away. She blinks up at Victoria with half lidded blue eyes. Her hair is sticking up on one side, a classic bedhead. 

Victoria clenched her jaw as her pulse picked up. 

“Mmhey, Victoria?” Max’s voice is a bit scratchy. She lifts a hand to hide her yawn. “Can I help you?” 

And Victoria wants to reply immediately, to chastise Max for her attitude or mock her stupid pajamas. 

That's what she'd do to anyone else who talked to her like that. Like she was no big deal. 

But that's counterproductive to why she’s here. 

Victoria clears her throat to focus. 

“No, but I can help you.” is how Victoria chooses to reply. Max looks even more confused. 

“So, there's this little party I'm throwing on Friday,” Victoria begins, fighting to sound casual. “It’s like, not a big deal, you should totally come.” 

“Wait... What? You-You're inviting me to a Vortex Club party?” Max sputters out the words, crossing her arms across her chest. Victoria lets out a huff. 

"There isn’t a Vortex Club anymore.” Victoria regrets the venom in her tone when Max flinches. She sighs. “I know you just got back, but I'm like, seriously tired of having to explain that.” Victoria complains. She pinches between her eyebrows. _Calm down, Vic. Focus._ She thinks, pulling herself together. 

“Look, it's just a bonfire at the lighthouse, with various... party favors. A bit simple for my tastes, but it's something.” Victoria wondered if Max had ever even had a drop of alcohol. 

“The lighthouse.” Max mutters the words under her breath. She looks down, and hugs her arms around herself. 

“Uh. Listen, I appreciate it and all but uh, I wouldn't want to like, mess up your friend group dynamic.” Max gives a pretty pathetic out. She looks insanely uncomfortable. 

“If we didn't want you there, you wouldn't be invited. No one will give you shit.” Victoria retorts, upset that Max was flat out saying no. No, upset is too kind a word. She’s livid. Did Max not know how big of a deal this was? Did she just not care? 

“Maybe, but I’m…just swamped with make up work right now.” Max hunches up her shoulders in a half shrug. 

Victoria sighs when she realizes she exactly can't force Max to show up. Or force Max to want to hang out with her. 

_You can't always bully people into doing what you want._ Her inner voice chastised. Max looked so fragile, like a malnourished lamb. Victoria was afraid to push too hard. 

“How about you just think about it? I'll text you details in case you change your mind.” Victoria offers up the resolution reluctantly, she'd much rather argue about this. This didn’t go according to plan at all. She never thought Max would flat out refuse. 

_Great job with the ambush, dumbass. No wonder she turned you down._

It shouldn't sting as much as it does. 

She shouldn't be taking this personally. 

Max blinks and reaches up to rub her eyes with the palm of her hands again. 

“Ugh, I'll get back to you on that.” Max agrees. “Coffee first.” 

Victoria can't help but relate. She's already had two cups herself. 

“I'll leave you to your caffeine. Au revoir.” With that, Victoria walks off in the direction of Courtney’s room. 

She needs her homework before first period. 

She balled her fists and blinked vigorously as she walked down the hall. 

She didn't know why but she feels like she’s about to cry. 

Victoria can feel Max watching her leave. It's an effort to not look back to see the expression on Max’s face. 

  
-

_1 new message_

Victoria is sitting on her window sill later that night, a blunt in hand. The smoke curled up and out the window. It was below freezing outside, the cold air seeping through her clothes. 

She takes a couple puffs before reaching for her phone. 

Unlocking it, she sees that Max finally replied to the party info Victoria texted her this afternoon. 

**Max:** _you know what? i've changed my mind, i'd like to come on friday. is there a dress code? :0_

Victoria scoffed with a smile. Her effort wasn't wasted, after all. Their scene in the hallway this morning was on Victoria’s mind all day. 

She'd straight up ignored Max in the classes they shared together. Not like Max had tried to talk to her, anyway. 

Not that Max really tries to talk to anyone, anymore. 

Victoria exhales out the window. 

She's just high enough that she starts typing a reply right away; she's too hung up to ignore it and ghost her like she normally would. 

**Victoria** : _no dress code. I could help you get ready though_

Victoria sent it and bit the inside of her cheek. She sets her phone down and took another toke off her joint. 

She felt nervous, jittery. _Chill, Victoria, you're just high. That's why your pulse is racing, okay?_ She thought to herself. 

Victoria exhales a big cloud in a sigh of frustration. 

She walked over to her computer and turned her music up louder. 

The Vortex Club may not exist anymore, but Victoria is still the queen bee of Blackwell. That comes with a lot of pressure, a lot of appearances to maintain. 

It's really fucking stressful. The only time that she really feels like herself anymore is when she isn't sober. 

The masks slip off easier when she's inebriated. She doesn't have to care about keeping up an image. 

She can laugh and forget, just for the night, that she has to wake up and do the same song and dance the next day. 

But this is what she wanted, right? This is what she fought for, clawed her way through countless people to climb up a social ladder? 

How did Rachel make this look so easy? She always filled her role with style and grace. But Victoria, the understudy, fumbles when she takes the center stage. 

Her phone vibrates against her desk and Victoria’s torn out of her thoughts. She picks it up without a second thought. 

**Max:** _okay, but i have to have veto privilege over outfits._  


Victoria smiles and lets out a little huff of relief. 

**Victoria:** _No promises, Maxine._

Max replies almost immediately. 

**Max** : _Max, never Maxine. TnT_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this chapter is going up unbeta'd so forgive any errors*
> 
> gaaah why am i so bad at updating this. wh y is depression the worst. anyway here you go 
> 
> *EDIT: the response to this has been so unexpectedly positive?? seriously thank you guys so much. i promise i’ll update with the next chapter soon. & it won’t be short like that previous ones either!!* 
> 
> title from A Hole In the Earth by Daughter. before the storm got me fucked up


End file.
